Accusations
by ElissaCousland
Summary: Elissa Cousland is confronted by Leliana about her feelings for Alistair. Morrigan makes him a man.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Trying to get all party morale up with gifts on my first playthrough, without the strategy guide, and this is what happened! It took a few trys to trigger it a second time. I thought it was an interesting plot point. I 'm thinking of adding a second chapter, as a follow-up, an apology to Alistair. This is rated for foul language, because that's what I thought as the accusations flew. This is not related to The Rose's Thorn, that's why it's in different tense and POV. Thanks for reading, and double thanks for the reviews!

Accusations

"You love Alistair!," she practically shouted, shoving a slender finger in my chest, so hard that it hurt. I was completely bewildered. All I had asked her, was if she would help him make supper so that he wouldn't ruin it as he always did.

"Wh-what???" I managed, all the while wondering where she would get an idea like _that._ My feeble answer was met with more anger, her brows contorting with vehemence. Her blue eyes sparkled with controlled rage.

"Why do you always feign ignorance?" she continued to rant at me, "I've _seen_ you together! I'd have to be blind, deaf, and buried _ten leagues underground _not to notice!"

I could see tears beginning to form in her eyes. I was still baffled, and before I could form a coherent thought to answer her with, she began to cry. "You've--you've said such things to me…"

I placed a hand on her cheek, trying to stem the tide of tears, "Leliana…"

She cut me off, shoving my hand away, "Were they _LIES_!?" the anger was back, full-force. I winced as her voice got louder with each word. "Have you been _playing with my feelings_!?"

"Of course not, Leliana!" I pleaded with her. My mind whirled, my heart felt like it would break. Was this her way of breaking it off? Was she trying to push me away? Why would she even _think_ that I was in love with Alis…Oh _shit_!

The other night Alistair had given me a rose. It was a sweet gesture, and I certainly did not think at the time that he meant to give it to me in any _romantic_ kind of sense. I had teased him about it, and then suddenly, he had kissed me, in front of the whole camp. Obviously, Leliana had seen it as well.

I placed a hand under her chin and lifted her gaze to mine, forcing her to look into my eyes. I felt my own tears form, at the thought I might actually lose her over something so stupid, so _trivial_, as a kiss of mistaken identity. "I love _you_," I declared to her, trying to keep my voice steady as it threatened to crack , "and _only_ you."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, her brows furrowed. Her next words came out soft, concerned. "What of Alistair, then? He _adores_ you. Don't do this to him."

"You're right," I agreed, though I dreaded the task that now lay before me, "I should end this with him, before it goes too far…and I think he's already got the wrong idea."

I cursed myself for giving him that small statuette I'd found in some ruins. I thought he'd like it. I was _trying_ to keep morale up, we were facing a Blight after all… so much for gift-giving.

Leliana's eyes held a touch of sadness, "I'm sorry I had to force this on you, but I couldn't stand by any longer, wondering if I meant anything to you,"

"You mean _everything_ to me," I countered with all the sincerity in my heart, hoping, praying to the Maker she wouldn't hate me for all eternity for my utter _stupidity_!

She studied me in silence for what seemed like a lifetime, her eyes seeming to bore down into my soul, to find the truth. Finally, she put me out of my misery. My heart did a triple-flip when I heard her next words to me.

"I believe you when you say that."

She looked pensive once more and said, "We should…talk later."

I nodded and took my leave of her. My stomach twisted into knots as I made my way over to where my fellow Grey Warden sat by the campfire, busying himself with the stew. What, in Andraste's name, had I gotten myself into?

"Alistair…" I began, unsure of how exactly to proceed. He rose to his feet, "Elissa…" he said, glancing at Leliana, then back at me. Crap! Crapcrapcrap! How do I do this, without breaking his heart?

"This…uh, might sound a bit strange," he paused, thinking, "but I have to ask…It's a…uh, _personal_ question."

_Oh, boy_, I thought _out of the forge and into the flames!_

I cleared my throat and kept my eyes on the ground. "What kind of personal question?" I asked, hoping it really wasn't.

"I'm wondering about…well, about Leliana…"

_Here we go… _I forced myself to meet his gaze, as my friend and fellow Warden, he deserved that much at least.

"It seems like the two of you have become quite…friendly…" his voice was low as he spoke, a slight blush burned in his cheeks.

A thousand answers raced through my mind. I could get defensive with him--_Why are you asking? _But that was stupid, because I knew why he was asking. I could play dumb--_Yes, I suppose we have. _But that wasn't fair to him, myself, or Leliana. I could accuse him--_You aren't jealous, are you? _But of course, if he was in love with me, then he had every right to be jealous, right?

I sighed heavily, weighing my options while he waited for a response. I decided I had to try to make this as quick and painless as possible. Finally I let the words just fall out of my mouth, no excuses, no explanations or placations, just the truth.

"Yes, that's right. We're in love."

I winced when I saw the look in his eyes. He was hurt, deeply. I knew this would happen.

"Ah, I see," he said, his brows knit in thoughtfulness, "I can't say that I'm surprised," he offered. His face fell, he was crushed. I felt like the biggest ass in all Ferelden. _Damn you Alistair! Why do you have to be such a loyal damned puppy-dog._ I didn't know what to say to make him feel better, and it was my own damned fault.

"I guess I'd hoped it might be different…that you would…that we were…well, no point in discussing that now, is there?" he concluded, rather hurriedly, I might add. He bit his lip and looked as though he would cry.

_Fuck!_

I said the only words that came to mind, "I'm sorry, Alistair. I hope we can remain friends."

He tried to smile, he really did, but it looked more like a grimace, and I couldn't blame him, "I hope so, too," he whispered, "I'm very happy for you both…Now, if you'll…excuse me…" his voice was choked, and I thought I saw a tear in his eye before he turned away.

I felt something like the earth shifting beneath me. I glanced around the camp, but nobody else had noticed it. When I looked back at Alistair, I realized that what I had felt was the taint that bound us, and I knew without having to look in his eyes, that I had lost his confidence, in a major way.


	2. Chapter 2

Favors and Promises.

"_Please, Morrigan!_" I pleaded desperately. She crossed her arms and turned her nose up in the air.

"I will do no such thing!" she declared.

"It's only this one time, Morrigan. Please, I'm _begging_ you as a friend, as a _sister_."

I got down on my knees and groveled, yes, groveled, clasping her hands in mine. "_Please_…" I pleaded.

"I am not some cheap, filthy, strumpet! And this," she cocked a brow towards me, "does not become you."

She was right. I would not earn her favor, or respect this way. I rose to my feet and released her hands from my grasp. Her yellow eyes held a note of defiance. It was possible that there was no way to gain her favor, now. I had probably offended her very senses with the idea.

I tried a different tactic. I appealed to her better nature, and said a silent prayer to the Maker that she had one. "He is…broken…Morrigan…and I cannot fix him. It _must_ be you."

Her eyes narrowed as she considered what I had just said. I knew that she knew that Alistair must live to take his place on Ferelden's throne, if only to keep Anora off of it. We both knew what neither of us would speak aloud, for to say it, might make it come true. In his current state, heartbroken over me, he might sacrifice himself the Archdemon before we could stop him.

I turned up my game. Apparently, Leliana was rubbing off on me. "You know," I said, "he thinks you're very beautiful."

Morrigan glanced at me sidelong. Damn, she had seen right through that one. But I wouldn't give up. "It's true, Morrigan. Why else do you think he finds all those little ways to annoy you?"

"Because he has nothing better to do, and he hates me as much as I hate him?" she offered. I rolled my eyes at that.

"Come now, you've had enough experience with men to know better," I challenged.

"Does he…really? Find me…attractive?" she asked.

I nodded enthusiastically.

"Then why has he not told me so, himself?" she demanded.

I paused. Oh, crap…how do I say this, without sounding like a _bitch_, or calling _her_ one. "Well…you can be…kind of…uh…don't you find him handsome?" I tried to change the subject. She shrugged her shoulders absently.

"Perhaps, but you have not answered my question."

I bit my lower lip. "You…remember when you told me that you're not very good at… being nice?"

Her eyes narrowed once more, "I can be nice when I choose to be." she stated tersely. I winced.

Crap…wrong choice of words. I should have asked Leliana to do this…

"But…" I continued, "you haven't yet chosen to be…to him"

Her yellow eyes glowered at me, sizing me up I suppose, or thinking of a good reason not to do what I'd asked of her.

"Fine." she said through gritted teeth. "but you will owe me _dearly for this, Warden, make no mistake."_

_I nodded a hundred miles per minute. Anything, I would have promised her anything. "Anything." I blurted out. _

"_I will hold you to that." she promised, before stalking off in the direction of Alistair's tent._


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to post, hetslash is not a strength of mine, especially between two characters who loathe each other. I found it quite challenging. I hope u enjoy the exciting conclusion of this little storylet. Warning -smut ahead-, oh and if i didn't say it before, Dragon Age belongs to BioWare.

*Also, very special thanks to Natmonkey for beta work on this*

Sexual Healing

So it is done.

The deal has been struck.

I will gain the female Warden's favor, and if I lay him well enough, I may also gain the bastard prince's favor. This will be ultimately necessary if I am to get them both to agree to the blood ritual. Although, whether the reluctant templar is more bastard, than prince remains to be seen.

A child born of an Old God, with the strength and skill of the Grey Wardens. I will be ready for Flemeth the next time she comes for me, but first…

I open the tent flap and quietly slip inside. He snores so loudly in his sleep, that I wonder why the darkspawn have not yet found our camp and slaughtered us all. I nudge his leg with my foot.

Nothing.

Harder.

Still nothing.

I kneel over him and shake him by the shoulders. He starts, sputtering, "Huh? Uh-Wh- What?"

I wait for him to realize it is I who woke him. I wait for a look of contempt when he recognizes me, but there is only confusion.

"M-Morrigan?" he asks, sitting up on his elbows, the fur covers sliding down his chest. A very muscular chest, indeed, I notice. Nicely smooth, which is also to my preference. Perhaps this won't be as bad as I thought…

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, yawning greatly, his mouth becoming a great wide chasm. "What is it?" he asks, mid-yawn, "What's wrong?" He sits up, spilling the blanket further down into his lap, exposing his ripped stomach. I bite my lower lip, hiding a small smile.

I don't know what to say to him. How to convince him to lay with me. Not that I haven't lain with men before, but this one, he is just so…different, so bloody _innocent_. If I make one wrong move, t'will be over, end of question.

He stares at me, questioningly, and I realize I've been silent a long time. Too long. I've given him time to think about what I might be doing in his tent at this late hour. I wait for the look of suspicion in his eyes. He is, after all, a Templar, errand-boy of the Chantry, and I, an apostate, an illegal mage.

"What do you want?" he asks. Ah, there it is. That not-so-subtle tone of irritation in his voice that I've come to loathe so well. I try to bite back my tongue and let my eyes fill with something he has never seen from me. Vulnerability. 'Tis false, but I use it to my advantage here.

"I'm so…cold, Alistair," I roll his name around my tongue, for the first time, finding it difficult to know whether to pronounce the I or not. Alis_tair_? Or Alistair? "Tis quite chilly tonight."

His eyes light up with all the exuberance of a child, I realize with sudden dismay. What I am about to do will change him, forever…and, is he so bad as he is? Sure, he was hurt, heartbroken, depressed, but I was about to force him into his manhood. It needed done, mind you, he was well past the age most men would have taken a woman by now.

"Here, I've got extra furs," he says, rolling out of his bedroll. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. He is definitely a _man_, judging by his size, even limp as he is. I will have to stop calling him a _boy_. He pauses. His hands going instinctively to cover himself. He turns as red as the Chantry wench's hair.

"I--er, -uhh…s-sorry," he stammers, sitting quickly back down on the bedroll and covering himself once more. "My--uh…straps…the--thread…darkspawn…and I can't…can't fix it…" he murmurs. He is holding a small white cloth. I realize it is his loincloth.

"Are you trying to tell me that you've broken your underwear in battle, and now you cannot fix them?" I chide. Still kneeling, I rip the cloth from his hands and toss it aside. "Heyyyy…" he complains whinily, "I don't go around throwing _your_ underpants about willy nilly."

"Alistaiiirrr…," I purr, tracing a finger along his jaw to his lips. I hold it there to shush him. He is suddenly under my spell, listening very intently, and it has nothing to do with magic. "I don't care about silly loincloths, or blankets," I say, tracing my finger over his smooth muscular chest. He gulps audibly, "The-then, w-what do you w-want?" he asks, a tremble in his voice. My smile is wide. I lick my lips, and purse them, before whispering in his ear.

"Alistair…have you ever…" I let my finger go lower, to his abdomen, tracing the hard muscles, "had _your_ lamppost…," I shove my hand under the furs, cupping him, and give a gentle squeeze, he hisses sharply, "…licked…" I lick at the base of his ear where it meets his neck, he moans softly, "… in winter?" I tilt my eyes slightly upward to gauge his response, though at the moment he may not be capable of one.

His face is drained of its usual rosy color. I can feel the tension rising within him, _literally_, it would seem, as I still have my hand on his… lamppost. There is a desperate plea in his eyes, and something else. Something that reminds me of the look of a child lost in the deep, dark wilds. 'Tis now or never I suppose. If I wait much longer, he may find his nerve and reject me.

I crawl closer to him and he tries to escape, backpedaling with his arms until there is nowhere else to go. "What's wrong, Alistair?" I feign hurt, pulling my top off over my shoulders and tossing it carelessly wherever it may fall. "Do you not find me…attractive?" I ask, tearing away my skirts, exposing myself to him.

His eyes do not leave my breasts as he mutters to himself, "O-okay, Al, time to wake up…any minute now, Al…yup, this is where you wake up, buddy." I arch my brow. He swallows hard, "I'm--I'm _not_ dreaming…am I?" he questions reproachfully. I reach up and pull my hair down out of it's usual bun, letting it fall against his chest. I shake my head in response to his question, both answering it, and teasing his skin with my silken locks.

"Are- are you…sure?" he asks, the nervousness ringing clear in his voice. I laugh out loud, with the knowledge of where this is going. He makes it so easy! "Alistair…" I caress his face, "one cannot feel pain in a dream, correct?" He frowns, then nods, "I-I think so." I smile widely again. I tweak a nipple. "Ow!! Hey, what?"

"Well, there you have your answer then, and do not be such a baby, it could not have hurt you _that_ much." I say, as I position my legs over his waist. I am careful not to get too close, not yet anyway, lest I find myself defiled by his…_eagerness_. He pouts a bit, and snipes at me, "Well, how would _you_ know…maybe you have _strong_ hands." It might have been charming in a way, if it did not sound so _childish_.

*******

She leans over and bites me, actually _bites_ me! I'm pretty certain I'll have a bruise on my chest tomorrow. She keeps biting me, not so hard now, as she works her way lower. She's getting awfully close to my…uh, …manly bits. I'm about to ask her to stop, before she decides to make a meal out of them.

_Andraste's Grace!_ Her mouth is warm, soft around me. Her tongue a velvet wonder, teasing along the length of my lamppost… _Damn it, Alistair! Don't be such a Chantry boy! What did the older guys call it? A shaft_…Yes. Her tongue a velvet wonder, teasing along the length of my shaft.

If I'm to be struck down by lightning, what a way to go. Or, maybe I'm already dead? I don't remember killing the Archdemon, but surely, this is heaven…

I open my eyes and look down, just to be sure this is really real. Her amber eyes regard me with a hungry look. Her magical lips work their way up and down. Up and down. Up and down…_Oh Maker!_ She suckles me, her satin fingers teasing my balls ever so gently. I--I-can't…hang on…

*******

He spills himself fully. I am not surprised by the amount of seed, considering it's his first time. I swallow it all, for expedience's sake. He looks at me incredulously. I smile as I realize he has not lost a bit of rigidity at all. I climb atop him, and ease him into me slowly, so his girth will not split me in t'wain.

*******

_Maker's Breath!_ This slow torture is surely my punishment for coming in her mouth. Her wet walls envelop tightly around my dick, squeezing from my head down to my base. I'm left breathless, watching her. She brings her hand up to her mouth and licks her fingers. Her hand comes down. She spreads herself open and _touches herself_, rubbing gently against a small nub of skin. She moans, throwing her head back. _Maker preserve me!_ I can't believe it, but she squeezes me even tighter and begins to raise and lower her hips.

I want to do this. I want to bring her that pleasure. I wet my fingers with my mouth and bring my hand down to her sex. I move her hand aside and take over. It's surprisingly slippery and soft. I tease her little nub much as she did with my balls earlier. She moans loudly and presses my hand harder against her. I increase the pressure and rub some more in the small circular motions she guides me into.

"Ahhh!" she screams. I'm afraid I've hurt her, but suddenly I can't think straight. A quick succession of strong, tight squeezes from her body takes all the cognition from my mind.

*******

The orgasm rips through me with great force. I scream with pleasure, surprised at his talented hands. He glances at me with momentary concern. I can feel him within my walls as they contract around him. I am surprised that he still remains strong. I pause, lowering myself to his ear. I whisper in the softest voice I can manage, "Fuck me, Alistair."

*******

Her words echo in my ears. Something in me, somewhere deep down, _changes_. Instinctively, I grab her hips and pull her down as I thrust upward at the same time. The pleasure is incredible, but the angle is not enough. I roll us both over. With her laying below me, I thrust into her depths. She moans softly, but bites her lip. She looks up at me with defiance.

I thrust harder. She breathes heavy through clenched teeth. She refuses to scream for me. I find now that I _want_ to make her scream, like she did before. I want her to scream my _name_. I pump my hips faster. She smiles, but still no sounds. I look down at her breasts. They sway in time with my thrusts. I grab one and squeeze it roughly. A soft groan through gritted teeth. I lean down and bite the fleshy part, then a moment later, I graze my teeth across the nipple. She shudders in response to it.

_Like that, do you?_ I give her other breast exactly the same treatment, and am rewarded with a tight squeeze from her body. I reach beneath her hips as the pleasure begins to mount within me. I pull her closer to me. This gives a deeper angle, and I groan as I bury my dick into her all the way to the base. She gives a pleasured laugh, "Ohh, Alistair," she whispers.

I thrust into her with deep, strong movements. Small sounds escape her throat. Desperate whimpers. She grabs my ass and shoves upward, driving me deeper into her. We both grunt in pleasure. I pick up my pace, as I can feel the closeness of my impending release. I thrust into her as hard as I can, and am finally rewarded.

"Ali-Alistair!" she screams, her body convulsing around my shaft once more. I let go with a few final thrusts. When our bodies stop quaking, I pull myself out of her, and roll over onto my back, spent.

*******

I gather my clothes quickly and dress. I turn to leave. "Where are you going?" he asks.

"To my tent," I answer coldly.

"I-I thought…" his voice trails off.

I turn to face him. "What? You thought I would stay?"

"I just.."

"Everyone is out for themselves, Alistair. You should learn that." I say, as I leave.

*******

She used me. _Maker's breath_, she used me for her own pleasure! A strange feeling bubbles up within me. Pride? Sleep struggles to take me, but I fight it as long as I can, wondering to myself what in Andraste's name has just happened. I don't miss her. I don't love her. I would not be opposed to doing this with her again, should the opportunity ever present itself. My Chantry upbringing makes it difficult to wrap my mind around this new feeling in me. _Way to go Alistair…looks like you've finally become a man…_


End file.
